Chapter 3: Who Sent the Box?

Written by Kavya and Concept by Sidhant First go to previous blogs if you have not already....

In the shimmering blue expanse of the Indian Ocean, there lay an atoll—Pitt Bank—its existence shrouded in mystery. Official maps showed it as completely submerged, a ribbon of reef that stretched nearly 56 kilometers from northwest to southeast, with widths ranging between 20 and 30 kilometers. For all intents and purposes, the world had long since forgotten Pitt Bank, assuming it had vanished beneath the waves, just another casualty of nature’s power. But a ridge remained—a small, carefully concealed portion of land that no one had bothered to discover.

That was, until one man had noticed it—Paul.

Paul Smith had long since traded the rolling hills of Gloucestershire, England, for the covert and clandestine world of British intelligence. A bright young mind with a gift for invention, Paul had been drawn into MI5, the United Kingdom’s domestic counter-intelligence and security agency, after a personal tragedy. His parents had been caught in the tragic hijacking of Flight BA 98, an event that had cost him his father’s life and irrevocably altered his mother’s. This was the inciting incident that led Paul into a world of secrets, espionage, and deep government intrigues. He was no longer Paul Smith; in MI5, he was Puttikali, or “Put,” a moniker given to him by his colleagues. He had become an asset, someone who could blend brilliant innovation with espionage, and it was during these early years that he stumbled upon a mystery that would lead him to the Pitt Bank atoll.

One day, as part of his duties, Put was flying over the vast expanse of the Chagos Archipelago in a helicopter. He had been focused on other matters, but the sharp eye of a trained operative had caught something unusual—a subtle ridge barely visible above the waterline of Pitt Bank. It was the kind of thing that would go unnoticed by most, but Put had made a note of it in his pocket diary, filing it away for a future date. Perhaps it was simply a curiosity, a minor detail to revisit when the time came. But the more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him. He had no idea then, as a young agent, that this ridge would become a crucial element in a series of events that would span years and involve people from across the globe.

But who would go to such lengths to hide an island? To conceal a piece of land, a mere ridge, in the heart of the Indian Ocean? And why? This was a puzzle that remained unsolved in Paul’s mind until much later.

As time passed, Paul’s life took an extraordinary turn. His years in MI5 were marked by success, and his personal vendetta against the terrorists responsible for his father’s death became intertwined with his career. His talents for invention and his ability to think outside the box—literally—made him an invaluable asset. He developed a range of gadgets, including a keylogger, which recorded the keystrokes on a computer and allowed MI5 to access secure databases. But it wasn’t just the technology he created that set him apart; it was his unorthodox methods, his willingness to push the limits of the rules, that caught the attention of his superiors.

And it was through these same unorthodox methods that Paul, now Put, found himself embroiled in a mystery that involved the seemingly innocuous world of cola bottles and a series of inexplicable explosions. A hidden camera embedded in a keychain, strategically placed near a shelf of cola bottles, had uncovered a sinister plot involving a local shopkeeper and a group of terrorists. This incident, which seemed trivial at first, was connected to a larger conspiracy, one that extended far beyond the initial crime.

The connection to the plane hijacking was undeniable, and it was in this moment that Put truly began to understand the depth of the connections between the events of his past and present. As he saved lives and unraveled terrorist networks, he discovered that the same group responsible for the hijacking was now involved in a much larger operation.

It was at this point that Paul, now Put, began to feel the weight of his experiences pressing down on him. The years of service, the inventions, the covert operations—it had all taken its toll. He had long since left behind the world of MI5, but his mind, ever restless, still sought new puzzles to solve. His retirement was spent in solitude on that very ridge of Pitt Bank, the place he had discovered so many years ago.

And so, it was there, in the isolation of his new life, that he began a project of his own. An artistic one. A series of carved wooden boxes, each a small work of art, each one containing a secret—a game, a puzzle to be solved by others. For, in his time at MI5, he had learned that sometimes, the greatest puzzles were not the ones that could be solved by technology or brute force, but by the quiet contemplation of the human mind.

The boxes, carefully crafted and imbued with small gadgets of his own invention, were sent out across the world. Soto, in Tokyo; Shree, in New Delhi; and Absko, in Nairobi—each received one of these boxes. Why them? Why these three? Perhaps they were the most unsuspecting, the ones least likely to connect the dots, the ones who would be forced to question everything they knew. Each of them had their own personal struggles, their own mysteries, their own unsolved pains. And now, they would be brought together by a simple wooden box.

But the question remained: Who sent the box? The answer, as it turned out, was someone who had seen it all, someone who had been to the darkest places of the world and come back changed, someone who had learned that life was too short to take too seriously.

It was Paul Smith, or rather, Puttikali—Put—retired intelligence officer and inventor, now living a quiet life in his secret refuge on the ridge at Pitt Bank. He had crafted each box carefully, embedding within them the very essence of his experiences. Each one was a message, a challenge, and a game. And while his reasons for sending them may have been mysterious, they were never malicious. To Put, it was all a form of fun, a puzzle to be solved, a game to be played.

And so, the boxes went out into the world, their recipients unaware of the man behind the mystery, the mastermind who had spent his career unraveling secrets, and now, was handing the world a new one to solve.